


In Good Faith

by SeemaG



Series: Tightrope [3]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pre-Episode: s01e01 Caretaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeemaG/pseuds/SeemaG
Summary: Tom Paris sits down to his first briefing with Commander Cavit.
Series: Tightrope [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797067
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	In Good Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rocky for the beta.

Tom Paris stepped onto the deck, his bag slung over his shoulder. It had been more than five years since he’d last stepped foot on Utopia Planitia and in all honesty, he never thought he’d be back here. He stood still, momentarily disorientated, and then joined the crowd moving towards the exit gates to the security checkpoints.

There was a good mix of civilians and Starfleet officers here, and he kept his gaze directed downward as he shuffled out with the others. It felt good to experience life outside of the penal colony, but at the same time, he felt like a stranger. The last time he’d been here, he’d been about to board the _Exeter_ , his first post-Academy assignment, as part of their flight operations group. Then, it had been impossible to keep the spring out of his step. Sure, he’d only been an ensign, lowest on the totem pole when it came to time at the com, but he’d had every reason to believe that in time, he’d eventually move up the ranks into a role of greater responsibility. And then there had been Caldik Prime.

“Hey! You’re holding up the line!”

Tom jerked at the voice of the security officer. “Sorry.” He pressed his thumb into the security console and then turned his eyes into the retinal scanner. The security officer gave the results a cursory look before waving Tom through. Now in the main terminal, Tom pulled out the PADD that Kathryn Janeway had given him, which contained his travel itinerary. He had a room booked at the main hotel, and then the next morning at 0800 hours, he was to catch a shuttle to the shipyard and then board _Voyager_ to meet with its first officer, Jeremy Cavit, at 0900.

He checked into the hotel with no problem; his famous last name seemed to elicit no attention here. His room was on the fourth floor, with a wide window, that looked out onto Mars colony. He kicked off his shoes and dropped off his bag in the closet. He sat on the bed, his face in his hands. It was the first time in six months that he’d truly been alone. Sure, he’d managed to escape to quiet corners of the grounds back in New Zealand, but he always took his meals with others except for the one time he’d been relegated to solitary, and he’d shared a cell with another disgraced Starfleet officer. In this hotel room the silence was unnerving.

After a shower and change into clean clothes, Tom wandered down to the hotel’s restaurant. He was seated at a table in the back, and he ordered tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. As he ate, he watched waves of people enter and leave, many of them in Starfleet uniforms. He wondered who was coming home, who was getting ready to depart on a new mission, who worked here. He thought again about Janeway’s offer.

“You can wear a uniform,” she’d said.

He hadn’t been sure at the time, but now he felt a curious urgency to wear it. Putting on that jumpsuit would be the first step in reclaiming his life. Wearing the black uniform with the red stripe across the shoulders would effectively be closing the door on Tom Paris, disgraced Starfleet officer and felon. For the first time since Kathryn Janeway had extended her hand to him, he felt an excitement. He was going back into space, aboard a top of the line Starfleet vessel, even if it was only as an observer.

The next morning, Tom put on the uniform, grabbed his bag, and left to catch the shuttle to _Voyager_. He’d always found the view of the shipyards to be breathtakingly awesome and so he selected a seat by the viewport. The shuttle arced gracefully around a number of ships still in various stages of construction, but Tom picked out _Voyager_ immediately and sucked in his breath. The ship was sleeker, more elegant, than he had imagined. He put his hand to the window, tracing the curved shape of its hull until the shuttle dipped into the landing bay.

From the bay, it was a fifteen-minute walk to where _Voyager_ was docked. Security checked Tom’s retinal scan and thumbprint and then he was admitted onboard. A security officer, who identified himself as Lieutenant Andrews, led Tom down the corridors and finally to a briefing room on Deck One.

“Commander Cavit will arrive shortly,” Andrews said briskly, as he gestured for Tom to take a seat. “Do you want something to drink?”

A whiskey, Tom wanted to say, but that was the old Tom. The Tom on _Voyager_ requested coffee. Andrews replicated the drink and had just handed it over when Cavit entered.

“Tom Paris,” Cavit said.

“Reporting for duty, sir,” Tom said quickly.

Cavit’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So, the captain believes you have information that will help us capture Chakotay’s cell.” The commander rounded the table and took the seat opposite Tom’s. “By my understanding, you were only with them for a few weeks. I’m not sure what value you actually bring to this operation.” Cavit leaned forward, threaded his fingers together. “Though I suppose as your stepmother is the captain of the ship, that says everything about your presence here, doesn’t it?”

There was an edge in Cavit’s voice, but Tom willed himself to keep calm. This wasn’t the time to lose his head; he had too much at stake.

“I can promise you that I don’t expect any special treatment,” Tom said stiffly. “I’m the best source of intelligence you have on how Chakotay’s cell operates now that your inside man has gone silent.”

“That is highly confidential information,” Cavit said.

“Captain Janeway told me about Lieutenant Tuvok’s undercover operation. Bold move, if I say so myself, but extremely risky. If his cover is blown, Chakotay won’t show mercy.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard about the man.”

“Then your information is wrong. For all you know, you haven’t heard from Tuvok because he’s dead.”

Cavit considered this for a moment, and then he nodded, pushing a PADD in Tom’s direction. “This is what we’ve got so far. Tell me what you can add.” The first officer crossed his arms across his chest.

Tom took the PADD and scanned through it. It was a pretty accurate manifest of Chakotay’s cell as he remembered it, though with a few changes. “The Maquis like to keep their cells small,” Tom said. “This one, Chakotay’s cell, is one of the larger ones. Almost forty people. Crowded into the _Val Jean_ like sardines. Three or four people to a room. No privacy on that bucket of bolts.” He looked at the pictures next to the list of names. “This is Seska. Tough as nails and absolutely ruthless. She wasn’t above torturing prisoners to get information. She and Chakotay have something going on the side, though I think she cares more than he does.” Tom pointed to a picture of a woman with delicate forehead ridges and short curly brown hair. “And if you want to know who Chakotay actually trusts, it’s this woman, B’Elanna Torres.”

“Tell me about her,” Cavit said.

“She’s the one who holds that ship together,” Tom said. He hadn’t spent much time with B’Elanna Torres, but there was something in her dark brown eyes that had attracted his attention. “How she does it, I couldn’t tell you. It shouldn’t fly, the state that it’s in, but yet it does. And she somehow has managed to devise technology using odds and ends of scavenged parts that allows them to elude capture and wring every bit of power out of those engines.”

“Our records say she dropped out of the Academy. She’ll be no match for our engineers. Commander D’Tal and Lieutenant Carey are both excellent at their jobs,” Cavit said. “Go on.”

“Watch out for Kurt Bendara. He’s former Starfleet, expert navigator, and he knows the Badlands like the back of his hand,” Tom said. “He’s the one who sets up all of the staging grounds, all of the re-supply routes, and he is an expert at running blockades.”

“And you know these re-supply routes, I suppose?”

“Some of them, yes,” Tom said. “They changed often, to avoid detection, but there are a few that run through the Badlands. An option would be to lie in wait on that route, and then follow the supply ship straight to Chakotay.”

“I expect you’ll give those coordinates directly to our chief pilot,” Cavit said. He rapped his fingers on the table. “Go on. Who is this?”

“Michael Ayala is Chakotay’s tactical officer. He plans all the missions. He has intimate knowledge of all weapons, Cardassian, Federation, Bajoran, you name it.” Tom fixed his gaze on Cavit. “He doesn’t miss a shot except when he wants to.”

Cavit shifted in his chair, a little impatiently. “Are you telling me that you think this group of lowlifes is a match for _Voyager_?”

“No, not at all,” Tom said. “I’ve studied _Voyager_. She’s a fine ship and Captain Janeway has assembled an excellent crew, that is if their resumes are anything to go by.” He tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “But that being said, I wouldn’t underestimate the Maquis. They are cunning, they are smart, and when they have their backs against the wall, they always seem to extricate themselves from the situation. They have nothing to lose so they aren’t afraid to take chances, try things that we wouldn’t.”

“The difference between having morals and not,” Cavit said.

“Perhaps, or at the very least, they know what they are fighting for.”

Cavit stiffened. “Sounds like you’ve got to figure out what side you’re on, Mr. Paris.” He narrowed his eyes. “The captain may have a soft spot for you, but I certainly don’t. People like you don’t change, not like that. You shift your loyalties as it benefits you. Sell your services to the highest bidder, so to speak. You should know I’ll be keeping a close watch on you. One false step and I’ll have you spaced out the closest airlock.”

“I wouldn’t expect less,” Tom said in a tone that belied his unease. “Don’t worry. I know why I’m here and what I need to do.”

Cavit’s posture didn’t change. “You’ll need to meet with our chief pilot, Veronica Stadi. Tell her what you know about navigating through the Badlands, and tactics the Maquis will use to evade us.”

“I can do that.”

“Just so you know, Mr. Paris, Lieutenant Stadi is a Betazoid.” Cavit leveled his gaze at Tom. Tom didn’t flinch. He’d come across officers like Cavit plenty of times in his career; hell, he’d even lived with one for years. “And she is very trustworthy. I expect that she would report any issues immediately.”

Tom decided not to mention that any Betazoid described as ‘trustworthy’ wouldn’t probe people’s thoughts without permission. “I’ve worked with Betazoids before,” Tom said. “It’s not a problem when you have nothing to hide.”

“She’s available at 1100 hours for a pre-flight check,” Cavit said. “The captain will arrive on Wednesday. We depart that day at 1500 for Deep Space Nine.” He pushed a second PADD in Tom’s direction. “You’ve been assigned to quarters on deck 9.” His lip curled slightly. “Even though you are not a Starfleet officer, the captain requested that you be given your own quarters.”

Tom didn’t know what to say to that. He had expected to bunk with some of the enlisted crew and if he had been very lucky, to have one of those smaller rooms for himself. To be assigned officer’s quarters was an unexpected surprised but he also recognized immediately the problems that that would cause.

“I imagine it won’t be long before everyone knows your relationship with the captain,” Cavit said conversationally as he rose from his seat.

“I don’t plan to tell anyone,” Tom said.

Cavit’s lips curled slightly at the corners. “It’s a small ship. Gossip travels fast.”

“I didn’t ask for any special favors,” Tom burst out. “I’m here to do a job, just like everyone else.”

“That’s the problem. You’re not like everyone else. This is an exemplary crew with unparalleled credentials. Simply being on this ship is a sign of special treatment,” Cavit said. “I’m not the only one who is going to have a problem with having a liar and criminal like you on the ship.” He paused and then said, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable in your quarters and then report to the bridge at 1100.” Without further word, Cavit disappeared out the doors.

Tom sank back in his chair, pressing his hands to his face. All the thrill of being back on a starship had evaporated. But he’d made a promise to his father’s wife that he would help her capture Chakotay and in return, she would campaign for his freedom. Three weeks, that’s all it would be, and then he could start his life again. He could tolerate anything Cavit threw at him for at least that long. Couldn’t he?


End file.
